


Fragile Denial

by Hemlockk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Denial, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Implied Somnophilia, M/M, Mentions of past sunaosa, Sibling Incest, The fic seems like sunaosa at first but it's not, Top!Osamu, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hemlockk/pseuds/Hemlockk
Summary: No matter how drunk Osamu gets, he always comes home.And there's always someone waiting.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu
Comments: 9
Kudos: 164





	Fragile Denial

Maybe there had been a time when Osamu was this drunk, but he couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t remember much of anything really. He only knew that he’d been at a club, and then in a car, and now he was home, stumbling through the front door and tripping over his own disorderly shoes in the genkan. He fell to his knees, and it should have hurt, but he felt nothing more than a distant buzz in his kneecaps. His shoes were tied too tightly to unknot, so he yanked them off ungracefully and tossed them aside. One of his socks came off too. He didn’t care. 

The wall swayed as he used it to pull himself to his feet. He’d lived here for almost a year, which was the only reason he made it to his bedroom. If he hadn’t walked down that hallway a few hundred times already, he would have gotten lost. It was still a near thing; he staggered past his bedroom door before realizing he’d missed it and clumsily backtracked. 

He should have showered, and brushed his teeth, and gone through his usual bedtime routine even if it was far past his usual bedtime. But he didn’t have the coordination for it, and he didn’t even pause to consider making a pitstop for his personal hygiene. He went straight to his bed instead, and rolled onto it with a groan. The room spun beyond his closed eyelids. He’d been nauseous earlier, although he couldn’t remember if he’d thrown up or not. His mouth didn’t taste gross, which was a good sign. But he wasn’t nauseous anymore, just floaty and warm and dizzy in a way that wasn’t completely unpleasant. 

Osamu let his arms flop to his sides with a sigh. One of them struck something in his bed, something solid curled up beneath the sheets. He rolled his head to the side, although it was too dark to see. It must have been Suna. That seemed reasonable. Suna had stayed over at his place before, although it had been a while.

Osamu turned onto his side to face Suna. He hadn’t woken when Osamu had fallen into bed, and didn’t move now as Osamu reached out. Maybe it was Suna’s shoulder under Osamu’s hand, or maybe his hip. It was impossible to know beneath all those sheets, so he fumbled his way beneath them to reach out again.

Warm skin, bare from shoulder to waist. A body heavy with muscle, warm and strong and tempting. Osamu shuffled closer, half beneath the sheets and half out of them, pressing his chest against a sturdy back. He felt his way from Suna’s waist to his stomach, flat and smooth, and then lower, fingers dipping beneath the band of his underwear. He nosed against the back of Suna’s neck, breathed in hair scented with shampoo that smelled too familiar. He kissed Suna’s shoulder, wet and sloppy, as he cupped a hand around Suna’s soft cock. Osamu kneaded it in his hand, hips rutting up against Suna’s ass, the alcohol in his blood amplifying his desire.

Suna shifted against him, mumbled something low and muffled. His voice was deeper than usual. Osamu pretended not to notice.

Suna’s cock thickened in Osamu’s hand. Osamu stroked it, still grinding against him, mouth latched onto Suna’s shoulder.

Suna moaned quietly, rocking against Osamu’s hand. “What’re you doin’?”

Osamu said nothing. He squeezed Suna’s cock until he gasped.

“Shit. Fine. Get offa me for a second.” Suna knocked an elbow into Osamu’s ribs to push him back before sitting up. His hands felt around until they found Osamu, curling into the edge of his jeans. “You’re still wearin’ your clothes. Didja just get home? D’you know how late it is?”

“Dunno,” mumbled Osamu, as his jeans were stripped off of him. “Lemme fuck you.”

Suna huffed. “Right. You reek of beer, you’re prob’ly too drunk to fuck anybody right now.” A hand slid between Osamu’s legs and curled around his hard cock. “Oh. Or maybe not.”

Osamu bucked into the contact, desperate for more.

“Drinkin’ makes you so fuckin’ horny. It’d be annoyin’ if it wasn’t so hot.” A hand pushed Osamu’s shirt up and Suna pinched his nipples, hard enough to sting. “Shit. I’m turnin’ on the light, I wanna see you like this.”

“Don’t.” Osamu grabbed Suna’s wrist. He couldn’t turn on the light. This was better in the dark. If Osamu could see what he was doing…  _ who _ he was doing… it wouldn’t be Suna anymore.

“Why, you embarrassed?” teased Atsumu –  _ Atsumu,  _ not Suna, fuck, he’d let himself think about it and now he couldn’t pretend it was Suna anymore – as he pinched Osamu’s nipple again. “Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, not like I haven’t seen ya fucked up like this before.”

Osamu tried to complain, but the worlds stuck together in a slurred mumble.

“C’mon, you woke me up. At least lemme have some fun.” The bedside lamp flashed on and Atsumu looked down at him, sitting up on his knees, his hair a wreck and his eyes blown out and his cock tenting his boxer briefs. “I’m guessin’ you’re too drunk to finger me open, huh? I’ll do it myself.” He rolled out of view and Osamu stared at the ceiling in his absence, floating in his haze of drunkenness and lust and shame.

He’d told himself last time that he wouldn’t do this anymore. It didn’t seem to bother Atsumu but it had always bothered him, even if he’d been the one to start it way back in their high school days. Osamu had told himself he would stop at least once a week for the past five years, and yet here he was, in bed with his brother again.

But one more time would be fine. He was drunk after all, it wasn’t as if he could stop himself now. 

And if he was sober next time, he would have to create a different excuse. That was fine. He’d gotten great at excuses over the years.

“Thought you mighta found somebody to go home with,” said Atsumu. He swung a leg over Osamu and climbed on top of him, and sometime in the past few seconds he’d taken off his underwear. His cock was out, hard and shameless, and he grinded his ass against Osamu as he squeezed lube onto his fingers. “I shouldn’t’ve worried about it. It’s not like there’s anybody out there better than me.”

If Osamu had been a little less drunk he may have argued, but words seemed like too much effort. He closed his eyes and felt the way Atsumu rubbed against him, wishing he was inside his brother instead of underneath him.

“Mmm, fuck,” said Atsumu, as he reached a hand back. He rocked back and forth on his own fingers, his head tilted back, throat exposed. Osamu wanted to kiss his neck, to lick and bite until Atsumu was trembling, but he wasn’t sure he could sit up without knocking Atsumu over. “When you’re sober tomorrow, you’re doing this yourself. It’s more fun that way.”

Osamu said nothing. The only acceptable response would be  _ I’m not doin’ this again _ , but he’d learned a long time ago that was a lie. No matter how many times he thought it – because he’d never said it out loud, never actually tried to convince Atsumu to quit – it was always a lie. 

Atsumu did something with his fingers and gasped, his cock jumping with a drip of precome, his face scrunching into something tense and needy. Osamu reached out, intending to get a handful of dick, but found Atsumu’s thigh instead. That was fine, too. He liked Atsumu’s thighs, like touching them and squeezing them and sucking bruises into them. Atsumu bruised easily. Sometimes that was good, sometimes it wasn’t.

“If I didn’t think you’d choke on your own spit, I’d facefuck you while I did this,” said Atsumu from above him, swaying as he fingered himself open. “I like puttin’ my cock in your throat. You get all red and pretty.”

Osamu’s nails dug into Atsumu’s thigh, hard enough that it would probably leave a mark. 

“Look at you, still gettin’ off me talkin’ dirty even when you’re too drunk to see straight.” Atsumu dropped onto one elbow, still stretching himself, and lowered his head to lick one of Osamu’s nipples. “I know exactly what you like, ‘Samu. That’s why you’ll never go home with anybody else. They’d never fuck ya as good as I do.” His teeth replaced his tongue, catching Osamu’s nipple and biting until Osamu’s hips lurched off the bed, a weak whine in his throat. 

Atsumu smiled against his skin, soothed the bite with his tongue. “You know,” he said, “I think I like ya better drunk outta your mind. You don’t argue with me.” He sat up far enough to fumble with Osamu’s underwear, yanking them down to rest just beneath his balls. Osamu’s cock was hard and leaking, desperate to sink inside his brother. 

Atsumu stroked Osamu’s cock a few times and the squeeze of his hand was almost what Osamu needed. “You’re so fuckin’ hard,” said Atsumu, thumbing over the head. “I’m kinda impressed. Most people can’t keep it up when they’re trashed like this. Is it just ‘cause I’m so sexy?”

“’Tsumu, shut the fuck up,” said Osamu, except it came out as more of a slur of nonsensical syllables. 

Atsumu grinned down at him, as if he knew exactly what Osamu had tried to say and would always ignore it. “You like when I talk. I know you do. It gets ya goin’.” He shifted up on his knees, holding Osamu’s cock steady. He dropped onto it slowly, and as the wet heat swallowed Osamu, he knew exactly why he would never stop doing this with Atsumu.

No one else felt like this. Osamu had fucked other people, and none of them had come close to making him feel the way Atsumu did. Not even Suna, who he’d dated for a few months during a desperate bid to keep his cock out of his brother. That had been okay, but  _ this _ …

This was perfect. This was divine. This was  _ everything _ .

“ _ ’Tsumu _ …”

“What’s that, ‘Samu?” said Atsumu, grinning as he took Osamu all the way to the base. He sighed as he bottomed out, tracing the length of his own cock, perfectly content. “You’re gonna have to talk a little clearer.”

“Wanna fuck you,” said Osamu, his hips moving against Atsumu.

“Yeah, you said that already,” said Atsumu. He rolled his hips in a slow circle, eyes falling closed. “But I think you’re gonna have to lay back and let me do all the fuckin’, alright?” 

“’Tsumu…”

“Yeah, I know.” Atsumu dug his elbows into the bed on either side of Osamu, leaning in to bite his bottom lip. He rolled it between his teeth, tugged until it hurt, and grinned as he pulled away. “Keep sayin’ my name. I like it.” He rocked forward on his knees and slammed back onto Osamu’s cock.

Osamu moaned and grasped weakly at Atsumu’s waist as his brother rode him. Atsumu didn’t take it slow, and Osamu hadn’t expected him to. Atsumu liked it fast, and he liked to do things his own way; even if Osamu was sober, even if Osamu was on top of him. Maybe that’s why Osamu kept coming back; Atsumu always got what he wanted, and what he wanted was Osamu.

Osamu’s grip went tight as Atsumu rode him harder, the snap of the impact making both of them gasp. Atsumu ducked his head to bite at Osamu’s collarbone, and then his nipples again, alternating between them as he licked and sucked and bit. Osamu’s cock twitched inside of his brother, each graze of Atsumu’s teeth making it kick against his walls. 

“You want it bad, huh, ‘Samu?” said Atsumu, gasping the words against Osamu’s chest. “You’re leakin’ like hell, I feel it inside me. It’s so fuckin’  _ wet _ .”

Osamu thrust up against him, hard enough to knock Atsumu off balance. He fell flat against Osamu’s chest and it knocked the breath out of them both. Osamu looped his arms around Atsumu, held him close, and thrust into his brother’s heat. 

“There you are,” said Atsumu, the words on uneven exhales as he rocked back to meet Osamu’s thrusts. “Keep fuckin’ me like that.  _ Fuck _ yeah.” He turned his face into Osamu’s neck and sucked a bruise at the junction of his shoulder. 

Osamu moaned and let his head fall back, arching against Atsumu’s mouth, pushing his cock inside him in a staggered rhythm. Atsumu got a hand around his own dick, jerking himself off as he exhaled into Osamu’s mouth. 

“Keep goin’, ‘Samu. Shit, that feels good. Deeper, fuck me deeper…  _ fuck,  _ just like that, yeah…” His tongue dipped into Osamu’s mouth and Osamu tried to kiss him back, but he could hardly do more than rub his tongue against Atsumu’s and swallow down a messy mix of their spit. Atsumu moaned into his mouth and grinded back against Osamu’s cock, his hand moving faster on his own dick. He squeezed tighter around Osamu, his breath coming shorter. “I’m close… Help me out, Samu. Talk to me. Do somethin’.” 

Atsumu’s tongue was in his mouth again, and Osamu sucked it the same way he would suck Atsumu’s fingers, or his cock. He felt around, clumsy, until he got a hand on Atsumu’s ass. It was plump and firm, and Osamu slid his hand in until he found Atsumu’s hole, stretched around his cock. He rubbed at the rim, pressed against it, and gradually worked a fingertip in alongside his dick. He thrust up, hard, and Atsumu moaned as he came all over his hand. It sprayed hot across Osamu’s stomach as Atsumu clenched around his cock. 

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ .” Atsumu rode it out, stroking himself until he was spent. He collapsed onto Osamu’s chest, heedless of the mess smeared between them, and exhaled against Osamu’s throat. “Shit, that was good. D’you think you can actually get off or are you too drunk?”

“I can,” said Osamu, regripping Atsumu’s hips. “I need to.”

“Well hurry it up then.”

Osamu should have told him to shut up, but instead he squeezed Atsumu’s ass and thrust into him, come squelching between their stomachs as he moved. Atsumu whimpered against him, oversensitive, but he didn’t ask Osamu to stop. He never did. He liked getting fucked while he was oversensitive, liked how raw and open it made him feel. He’d told Osamu that once, on an occasion when their roles had been reversed and Atsumu had been the one who was a little tipsy.

Osamu spread his brother’s asscheeks and fucked into him, groaning. He needed to come so badly that it hurt. He wanted to roll them over and get on top of Atsumu for better leverage, but he didn’t think he could do it. The room was still swaying, sharply enough to leave him dizzy. 

Atsumu raised his head, cheeks pink and eyes hazy, and moved his mouth to brush at Osamu’s ear. “You want me to talk you through it?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges. It always got that way after he came. “Want me to tell you how good it feels when you fuck me? How I like the way your cock stretches me open and fucks me deep?” He bit down on Osamu’s earlobe, sharp enough to sting. 

Osamu squeezed Atsumu’s ass harder, snapped his hips up. 

“I was hopin’ you’d come home and fuck me, you know,” said Atsumu. His tongue darted out and he breathed hot into Osamu’s ear. “Every time you go out I wonder if you’ll find somebody else or come back to me. I’m glad it’s always me. Nobody fucks me like you do. It’s so good, it’s always so good… I love the way your cock feels, it’s so fuckin’  _ thick _ …”

Osamu gritted his teeth and thrust into him, chasing release, desperate for it.

“You gonna come inside me?” said Atsumu. He rocked his hips down against Osamu, despite a wince of oversensitivity. “I like the way that feels, too. It’s so hot and wet and it makes me feel like I’m  _ yours _ … ‘cause I am. You know that? I’m yours, ‘Samu, I’ll always be all fuckin’  _ yours _ …”

Osamu groaned, thrust hard into Atsumu, and came with a moan of “’ _ Tsumu _ ” in a thick voice that slurred even more when Atsumu kissed him. Atsumu bounced back against his cock, riding the orgasm out of him and panting into Osamu’s mouth.

Osamu collapsed as the last pulse of pleasure left him, spent. He struggled to catch his breath as Atsumu pushed up on his knees and stared down at him, still seated squarely on Osamu. Idly, he reached down to touch his own cock, half-hard in his hand.

“If I thought you could stay awake long enough, I’d make you get me off again,” said Atsumu. He rocked back onto Osamu’s cock and Osamu weakly tried to push him off. “But I think you’d pass out before I was even close.” He rose up, Osamu’s cock sliding out of him, and rolled onto his side. He reached behind himself, lingered, and emerged with two fingers coated in come. “Look at that, ‘Samu. You always make such a mess and you’re not even stayin’ awake to clean it up.”

Osamu blinked at him, slowly. He didn’t think he was falling asleep, but it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. 

Atsumu touched the tip of his tongue to his fingers. If Osamu had been a little more coherent, he would have been hard again immediately. He wondered if he could go again, but his body was so heavy he didn’t know if he could even move.

“Maybe I’ll just keep goin’ when you fall asleep,” said Atsumu. He wrapped a hand around his cock, coating it in Osamu’s come as he stroked. It began to fill out in his hand. “I’ll roll you over and fuck ya. Give you an ass fulla come to wake up to. How ‘bout that?”

Osamu closed his eyes. This time he couldn’t open them again. “Tsumu…”

“Hmm?” Atsumu was close, his breath warm against Osamu’s jaw. “Was that a yes?”

Osamu struggled with his words and finally mumbled, “Whatever ya want, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu kissed Osamu’s jaw. “Yeah, I definitely like you better like this. How ‘bout I video it, so when you’re sober you can see what I did to ya?”

Osamu slurred something, unsure what the words even were. He barely knew what Atsumu had said; he felt as if he’d missed part of the conversation. His eyes still wouldn’t open.

“Don’t worry.” Atsumu skimmed his fingers down Osamu’s chest and across his stomach, gliding through come. “I won’t wake you up.”

Instinct told Osamu he should protest, but he didn’t know why. He felt perfectly safe lying here with Atsumu, gentle fingers tracing up and down his body, lulling him to sleep. It didn’t matter what was happening. He trusted his brother.

“G’night, ‘Tsumu,” he managed, the words garbled.

“’Night, ‘Samu.” Atsumu’s hand dipped lower, teasing between Osamu’s legs. “Sleep tight. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Osamu couldn’t have stayed awake even if he’d wanted to. He slipped into sleep, and if Atsumu did anything else, it didn’t wake him up.


End file.
